Short of Breath
by Cyra Cole
Summary: Sequel to Fresh Heir. Havyn faces memories and nightmares that won't go away. (Written 2001)


Short of Breath, sequel to Fresh Heir

Written in 2000

Disclaimer: I own Havyn, Dante and Juliet, and any other kids. I wish I owned Shane. 

Rodney happily turned the page of his WWF Magazine. He had been a loyal subscriber since he was convicted. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to watch the shows since the guards feared he would be influenced to try something. Despite what they believed, he had become a very passive person…it wasn't like he was going anywhere soon. He was hoping to get parole in a month or two but he didn't know how the warden felt about that.

It'd been years since it had all happened. So much had changed in eight years. He was much older for one, saner by his own standards. His cellmates never agreed with him about that, but he didn't care. 

Rodney groaned at the sight of the lead article in the magazine. "Greenwich Couldn't Look Greener For This Happy Couple," he read aloud, following the statement with a snort. He perused the five page spread of photos of Shane and Havyn in the ring, backstage, at Titan, and what he assumed was their home. After all, he had never actually seen it. He had read about the wedding, but he never wanted to think of it as anything more than another angle. Now he had to face the truth. Shane had taken Havyn back and there was nothing Rodney could do about it.

* * *

Vince grinned as his grandchildren climbed into his lap, Dante on one leg and his sister Juliet on the other. "How are my favorite little troublemakers?" he asked them.

"Good Grampa," they replied in unison, giggling.

"Guess what I have for you?" He watched their faces light up as he pulled two lollipops from his pocket and handed them over.

"Is this what it has come to, Vince?" Havyn asked, walking towards the three slowly. "You carry candy around with you?"

"It keeps them happy, and you know how I love to see my grandchildren happy." He tousled Dante's blonde hair before easing the children off his lap. "Why don't you kids go find Grandma, okay? I need to talk to your mom for a few minutes."

Havyn smiled as they scurried off to find Linda. "What is it, Vince?"

He didn't say anything for a minute and then sighed. "When will you call me dad?"

"Probably never."

"You are so difficult…"

"And that's why I make a good McMahon."

"Good point. Shane said you're having the nightmares again."

She shrugged. "They come and go. It isn't a big deal."

"I think it is. You haven't had them in years, why now?"

Havyn sat down across from him. "Dante was making a family tree the other day and he asked me why he was blonde when Shane and Jules both have black hair."

"You're blonde."

"That's what I told him, but even my hair isn't as light as his… I guess it just made me wonder."

* * *

"Leinhardt, visitor!" Officer Jacobs yelled, banging on the bars of Rodney's cell. The blonde got up slowly, smiling at the woman with the guard. He didn't get many visitors…well, none actually. She was the only one. She came to see him every week or so, bringing some sort of gift with her each time.

"I like the giant collage you've got going," she commented on the numerous pictures of Havyn on the wall. "It's very…single-minded."

"Thank you. Well, what did you bring me today?" 

She pulled a few photos from her purse, handing them to him. "Just some good old family photos taken backstage last week."

"Oh my goodness," Rodney exclaimed. "They've gotten so big. Thanks, these are wonderful, and especially hard to find."

She nodded. "They're being kept out of the public eye to live normal lives. I respect that, but I figured you have the right to see them." She leaned forward and pointed to each person in the photos as she spoke. "The littlest with Stephanie is Lance, he's almost one. Juliet is four and of course, Dante is seven."

"He doesn't look like Shane…" Rodney grinned.

"No, he doesn't." 

* * *

_Havyn beckoned to her son to stop playing for a minute. "Sweetie, guess what," she said._

_"What?" _

_"Daddy is coming home today."_

_He suddenly looked past his mother._

_Havyn turned and smiled sweetly at the approaching figure. It was Rodney. He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her passionately. "How's my girl?" he asked. "You miss me?" He bent down to Dante's level. "Hey, Short Man, you have a hug for your dear old dad?" _

_Havyn watched Rodney hug Dante. She watched as his face suddenly changed, the smile it held becoming twisted and vaguely malicious. She'd seen it before; it was all too familiar. As Dante turned, his face held the same expression._

Havyn sat bolt upright in bed, hair matted onto her forehead with sweat. She took a few deep breaths to stop from hyperventilating and immediately started crying. Shane sat up next to her, alarmed when she jumped a mile at his touch. He tried to comfort her to no avail; her crying didn't cease. He just held her until she cried herself to sleep, all the while soothing her with the constant reassurance of his presence.

* * *

"Aunt Stacy! Aunt Stacy!"

Stacy Carter looked up just in time to see Dante and Juliet running towards her. "Hey y'all. Shouldn't you be in school?"

"You silly, there's no school in summer!" Juliet exclaimed.

Stacy grinned. "I completely forgot. So are you helping out your mom and dad, or are you being obnoxious?"

"What's obsnokous?"

Stacy laughed and pulled the little girl onto her lap. "You never mind that, Jules. Big D, how are you doing?"

Dante shrugged. "Okay I guess. Can we look at your pictures?" he asked, motioning to the photo album sitting underneath Stacy's digital camera.

"You sure can," she replied cheerfully, opening the album and pointing to people as she spoke. "Look, there's your parents with your Aunt Stephie and Uncle Pete."

"Who's that?" Dante pointed to the blonde man standing next to Pete.

"Oh… that's Rodney, he used to be friends with your dad a long time ago."

"Aunt Stacy, where are the pictures you took of us?"

Stacy frowned at the blank page in front of them. "I have no idea, D." She couldn't think of who would take them. Everyone walked by her stuff and the book was always open for everyone to get a laugh at the candid shots. Anyone could have done it.

* * *

Juliet tiptoed down the hall and into her brother's room. "DeeVee?" she whimpered at the fact that her brother didn't have a nightlight in his room. She climbed into bed next to him. "DeeVee, I scared."

"What's wrong, Jules?"

"Mommy is cryin' 'gain. It makes me sad."

"Ssh, don't worry about Mom. Just go to sleep, okay?"

She nodded slowly and buried herself under the blanket. When Dante was sure she was sleeping, he snuck out of his room to see his mother. He found Havyn curled up with her knees to her chest, sobbing softly. "Mom?" 

Havyn's head snapped up and she hurriedly wiped her cheeks dry. "Why aren't you in bed, honey?"

"Jules said you were crying."

She got out of bed and knelt to her son's level. "I just had a nightmare, that's all. Besides, I miss your daddy, and I wish he was home." She sighed. "I wish he didn't have that big meeting up at the Toronto offices…but he'll be back tomorrow night."

"Can we go see Grampa tomorrow?"

"Of course. We'll surprise him at work, okay?" He nodded. "All right, now why don't we get you tucked in so you can get some sleep." She took his hand and walked with him back to his own room, putting him in bed next to the sleeping Juliet. She kissed each child on the forehead before leaving. 

* * *

Titan might as well have been a daycare center on some days. McMahon children ran rampant from office to office, escaping the clutches of any wrestler around to chase them. Dante ducked into Havyn's dark office and slid to the ground behind a giant potted plant. He watched Paul Levesque's boots clunk into the room and then back out after the large man let out a sigh of frustration. Dante stifled a giggle at his fantastic hiding place and froze as someone else entered the room.

The lights were turned on and a pair of high heels made their way across the room, dropping a large black envelope on Havyn's desk. The heels clicked away and the lights were turned off again. Dante frowned. "What's _she_ doing in Mom's office?" he thought aloud. 

His speech gave him away as Paul returned and scooped him up. "I got you!" he exclaimed. "You can't hide from me!" The envelope suddenly caught Paul's attention. He grabbed it and left the room, Dante under one arm.

"Having fun, Paul?" Shane asked with a laugh as the wrestler entered his office. Havyn stood behind her husband, her hand's on his shoulders. 

"Well, I found this guy hiding in your office, Have, and I figured you might want him back. And this was on your desk." He put Dante down and held up the envelope.

"Havyn," Shane yelped as he felt her hands tighten on his shoulders. "What's wrong?" He calmly pulled her hands away to find her shaking. "Dante why don't you go find Jules."

He nodded and ran out of his father's office at near top speed. 

Shane stood and took the envelope from Paul, dumping its contents onto his desk. "Oh good God," he mumbled. "Trish has a new list of demands."

Havyn laughed nervously and shoved everything back into the envelope. "Bitch isn't even a diva anymore and she thinks she runs this place just because she's in wardrobe," she grumbled, leaving quickly.

"Why's she so nervous again?" Paul asked.

Shane sighed. "You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Rodney's been released."

* * *

Trish hummed to herself, flipping through the pages of Stacy's photo album. "My, my, she's a busy little kitty, isn't she?" she murmured to herself, glancing at the new photos. She grabbed a candid of Shane sleeping during a plane ride. Trish remembered that. Stacy couldn't have been any more annoying, blinding people with that dumb flash when all the superstars wanted to sleep. She grabbed two more, one of Scott Levy grinning like an ass, with Havyn in a headlock, and another of Dante sleeping next to Shane.

"Trish, there's a gimmick meeting in ten minutes!" a production assistant yelled into the women's locker room.

"Okay, I'll be there," she called back, shoving the pictures into the pocket of her black leather duster. She picked up her cell phone and hit speed dial. "Hello, how are you… Of course I got them… Hey, no need to get snippy… Yes, I'll see you on Friday… All right, bye." Shoving the phone into her other pocket, Trish left the locker room and headed towards Shane's office, not noticing Stacy and Paul watching her strut down the hall.

* * *

Stacy waited until Trish was out of sight before opening the door to the locker room. She ushered Paul inside the empty room and immediately grabbed her album. She flipped to the last few pages and noticed the spaces between pictures. "What is going on?" she exclaimed. 

"Trish took your pictures?" Paul questioned. "Why would she do that?"

"I have no idea, but this isn't the first time they've gone missing. A few weeks ago a couple of Dante, Jules and Lance were missing. You know, I bet she took those, too." Stacy stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's stealing…especially if it's _ my _stuff."

Paul shook his head. "You wanna tell Shane or should I?"

"We should both tell him…maybe keep it quiet?"

"Of course."

* * *

The apartment was empty with the exception of a mattress on the floor of the bedroom. The shades were down, casting shadows on everything. He sat on the floor of the bedroom, gazing longingly at the wall across from him. It was plastered with pictures. He sighed and sipped his drink, thinking. He couldn't believe he was out. He still had to meet with his parole officer twice a week, but he was outside now. He stayed in Stamford because he wasn't allowed back in Greenwich. He would've gone to New York, but he wasn't allowed out of state either. Stamford was just fine. He lived a normal life, trying to piece it back together. It was hard to get a job with his record despite the anti-discrimination laws so for now he sadly worked at a Blockbuster.

He'd been declared mentally stable as long as he took his medication. He never liked the medication though; it tasted bad and made him want to vomit. When the doctors came to see him the day they decided he could leave, he followed her instructions and took down the pictures of Havyn. He gave them to her and when he got his apartment, she returned them, even helping to reorganize the collage on the wall. Soon he'd see her again and maybe even the children, too. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Havyn casually made her way down the entrance ramp, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. "Shane, darling, what do you think you're doing?" she asked, raising a microphone to her mouth.

Shane gave her his infamous puppy eyes. "What do you mean? I'm just running the business."

"Honey, I love you, you know that." He nodded. "And I thought that after all these years you'd have learned from your parents that business can't become personal. Look how many marital problems they had because Vince couldn't keep the two separate."

"Our marriage is fine," Shane replied with a smirk. "Very fine, actually."

She nodded. "It's good, but well…it could be better. Your business work is ruining our personal life little by little. The children miss you and I miss you." Havyn snaked an arm around her husband from behind and motioned to the Titantron. "Let me introduce those who can handle the business from now on. Ladies and Gentlemen, the League of Commissioners."

Mick Foley, Triple H, Raven, Debra and Stephanie McMahon filed through the curtains to a huge pop. They waved at the fans that hadn't seen them since they retired from injuries or just stopped having on screen roles. 

"I tried to make this fair," explained Havyn. "They won't agree on everything, but they'll learn to compromise and I believe that matches will be fair with them in charge."

"You did all this so I would come home?" asked Shane. 

"And to keep you from becoming your father." She took Shane's mic and dropped it to a crewmember along with her own, walking backstage with her husband by her side.

* * *

Dante grinned at his little sister. "Mom and Dad are gonna be around all the time now."

"Why?" she asked, examining a blue crayon.

" 'Cause Dad doesn't have to be in the ring. Now he's only gotta be here."

"With Grampa?" Dante nodded and Juliet let out a squeal of delight before going back to her coloring book. "I never goin' home," she said happily. "I stayin' here with all the fun big mens."

"Is that so?" Shane questioned, entering the conference room where his children were sitting on the table. "I'm gonna lose my little princess to the punks running around this place?"

Jules giggled, throwing her arms around Shane's neck. "I love you more Daddy," she assured him.

"I love you too, Princess. Now I need you to move into some chairs because I need to have a meeting in here. You can keep coloring, just make room for everyone else, okay?"

Both children complied, dropping into seats at one end of the long table. Soon employees filed in, talking amongst themselves. They all said hello to the little McMahons before turning their attention to Shane.

"All right, we have the pay-per-view coming up in a few weeks and I want to know what promotions is doing about it," he stated. "Matt, Lucas, how is the website looking?"

"Well, we've got the shell completely set up for the expected matches, we just have to fill it in," Matt answered. "And, we dropped in the 'secret page' to throw the fans off."

"Good. What about appearances, Marissa?"

"Each main eventer has been booked for at least two autograph signings, and there are a few photo shoots next week for Kurt and Dwayne."

"Sounds good." Marissa smirked, proud of her work. "Pete," continued Shane, "how are ticket sales?"

"Nearly sold out."

Dante paused to watch the adults listening to his father attentively. _I'm gonna be just like Dad one day,_ he thought.

* * *

Shane picked up the phone quickly, not wanting to wake the children or even Havyn for that matter. "Hello?" No reply. Nothing. "Hello? Who's there?" He received a click and dial tone in response. He slammed the phone down in anger. It was the third call he'd gotten today. They were all the same, no speaking on the other end. Once he'd heard breathing, but the caller never said a word.

He grumbled as Havyn shifted beside him, her eyes opening slowly in the darkness. "Shay, who was that?"

"Wrong number," he replied, lying down to sleep again. Moments later both parents groaned at the loud cry from the next room. Lance was up. "I'll get him," Shane told his wife. "You stay." He got out of bed, nearly tripping on his way to the nursery.

As Shane pulled Lance into his arms, the baby quieted down immediately. "That's what I like about you, little guy…you're not a screamer like your sister was. Let's just stay nice and quiet so Mommy can sleep, okay? She's a little stressed out. I know you don't understand that now, but you will later when you're an adult. Right now, don't worry about a thing. You just keep doing…uh, whatever it is babies do." He sighed. "You don't understand me, but you sure do listen." Lance reached up to grab his father's nose. "Hey, watch that…I'm not Paul."

* * *

"That's a wonderful picture, sweetie. Is that your family?" Trish asked, settling down on the floor next to Dante.

He turned to look at her, stuck his tongue out and then started drawing again as if nothing had happened.

Trish frowned. "Well, that wasn't very nice. Why'd you do that?" 

"Aunt Stacy doesn't like you," he replied.

"So?"

"So I don't like you neither."

"Dante, I think you should make your own decisions about people. I'm not a bad person…Stacy and I just don't get along all the time." She paused to think, tugging absently at a strand of hair. "I'm friends with your grandfather."

"You are?"

"I sure am. You see, before I helped people with their clothes, I used to have the same job as your aunt Stacy and your mom."

"Really?"

"I sure did."

"Why don't you still?"

"Well…" She paused once again. How could she explain her situation to a seven-year-old? "You know how your uncle Paul doesn't wrestle anymore because he had a very bad back injury?" Dante nodded. "Well, I was injured very badly, too, so I can't wrestle anymore either."

"Oh, okay," he said, satisfied with the simple answer.

Trish smiled in relief. She couldn't possible elaborate to him about it. Everyone knew though, it was obvious to an adult. A few years ago one of her implants had started to leak, unknown to her until months later. By the time the problem was found, it couldn't be fixed, only removed. Trish was left a lot flatter, and not quite the diva she had been. Her role onscreen abruptly stopped, but Vince was kind enough to give her another well-paying job. Seeing the others being howled and whistled at upset her in many ways because she no longer received that kind of attention. She'd changed so much that fans barely recognized her now. It wasn't so bad when she thought about it. She had money, she'd had her fifteen minutes of fame and she'd finally found love.

* * *

"What are you doing, Rodney?" Trish asked, placing her chin on his shoulder. "Ooh, what are you writing?"

"Nothing, baby," he told her as he shrugged, forcing her to move. "Don't lean on me, I'm busy."

"You said it was nothing. Besides, I haven't seen you in awhile and I miss you. I just want to be with you."

"I know, baby, but you're going to get on my last nerve if you keep hanging on me like you always do. Let me finish this and then _maybe_ we'll spend some time together."

Trish pouted and stood to face what she referred to as the Wall of Obsession. "You know, you sure spend a lot of time worrying about her when you're with me." She proceeded to rip pictures from the wall.

Rodney got up as fast as he could and slapped Trish, sending her flying to the ground. She placed her hand on her red cheek as tears flowed down her face. "Baby, oh baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He rushed to her, pulling her towards him. "I'm so sorry, so sorry. I don't want to hurt you, you know that."

"I want you to be happy so I get you what you want, but I want you to be happy with me."

"I am happy with you, baby. This is the last thing, I promise. Then it's just you and me. No more notes or pictures. I promise. I love you, Trish."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"I want to see my son," Stephanie read the card again. "That's all it says."

"That's it?" Havyn questioned again, grabbing the card. "That's it. Oh God, how does he even know about Dante? I certainly never told him." She stopped talking to look at Juliet. The little girl's eyes darted from her mother to her aunt and to her mother again. "Jules, honey, where'd you get this?"

"Twishy gave it to me," she replied quietly. "She said, 'give this to mommy.' What's it 'bout, Mommy? It 'bout DeeVee?"

"No, Jules, but can you do me favor? Can you be a big girl and check on Lance and Philip in the nursery?"

Jules' eyes lit up. "Okie, Mommy," she said happily, hurrying upstairs.

"This is like some sort of omen," Havyn concluded after thoughtful silence.

"What?"

"Shane and I have been thinking about finally getting Dante's DNA testing done. To finally clear up any doubts I mean. I'm so afraid…"

"Don't worry, it'll all end well. It has to."

* * *

Shane rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his dark hair. "I can't believe we're doing this," he muttered. "After all this time."

"We made the right decision, Shay," Havyn assured him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He put an arm around her as the doctor came back with the test results. "Mr. and Mrs. McMahon, sorry it took so long. One of our technicians filed your papers in the wrong place." He looked over the documents. "You brought in…Dante yesterday, correct?" Both parents nodded. "All right. I realize your concerns were that he was not the biological son of Mr. McMahon due to the fact that he bears no outright resemblance to him, and also because he has Mrs. McMahon's blood type. I'd like to officially end those concerns by saying that Dante is indeed the son of Mr. McMahon."

Shane let out a sigh of relief, hugging his crying wife. For a few moments they could only stay in each other's arms.

* * *

"Does this look all right, Mrs. McMahon?" a member of the lighting crew asked Havyn as he flicked a blue spotlight on and off.

"That's great, Tim, and call me Havyn," she replied, looking up from her clipboard. "Hey, how long have you been working on this set up?"

He checked his watch. "About four hours now. I missed lunch, too."

"I thought so. Get out of here, you deserve a nice long break."

"But Mr. McMahon wanted this done by five o'clock."

"I think I can deal with him. Go on."

Tim grinned and lowered himself from the lighting rig. "Thanks M—Havyn."

Havyn leaned against the ring apron, making more notes on her clipboard before looking around the arena. Tim was the only one around and when he left, she was alone. Shane was going over the SummerSlam matches in the back with the booking team, and despite the pay-per-view being in Hartford, the children had been left in Greenwich with Vince and Linda.

The Titantron suddenly came to life, playing the opening montage that had been put together for later that night. Havyn jumped a mile, dropping her clipboard. As she crouched down to get it, she heard footsteps behind her. "Tim, is that you?" she asked, turning slowly. "I told you to-"

"I'm not Tim," came the reply.

Havyn froze at the sight of the couple in front of her. "Oh God…"

"Surprise!" Trish exclaimed. "Rodney wanted to come see the show tonight so here we are."

"There you are," Havyn repeated slowly, still partially in shock. "I never thought I'd see you again. I hoped I'd never see you again. Too bad."

"I just want to see the child you've been hiding from me," he explained. "That's all. Just let me see him and I'll leave."

"That's it?"

Rodney nodded. 

"Well, Rodney…Dante…my son that is…he's not yours. Shane is his real father and I have the test results to prove it."

Trish's mouth dropped. "Have you seen that kid? He looks nothing like Shane!"

"That's because he gets most of his genes from Franny's side of the family," a new voice joined the conversation. Shane walked from the area by the ramp and stood next to Havyn. "You wouldn't know that though, would you, Rod?"

"I obviously know what Havyn looks like," he scoffed.

"No, you really don't. You spent all your time in high school chasing after her sisters even though Franny was the one watching you all the time. She wasn't good enough then, but when you saw her years later, you wanted her. That was when she was Havyn."

"What the hell is your point?"

"My point is that you never loved Frances. You love Havyn, the character, the persona. I mean, Rodney, talk about marking out."

"No, no," Trish squeaked. "He loves me now. Only me."

"Whatever the situation is…I don't care. Just take yourself away from my family and stop calling us and sending letters."

Rodney frowned. "Shane, I understand your concern, and I already told Havyn that I'd leave once I saw my son. So, I guess I can go now. I am a little confused though because I admit I did have Trish collect keepsakes for me, but I never made any phone calls and I only sent one letter. Trish delivered that to Juliet."

"That's right," Trish agreed. "Just one little note. And no phone calls. I would know after all, I'm with my honey all the time."

"Then who did all that…?" Havyn questioned.

The silence was broken by the sound a gun cocking. "Guess who."

Rodney swore under his breath, able to see who it was before Shane and Havyn. "I want a normal life," he stated. "I don't want any trouble. I changed my mind."

"Oh boohoo, Rod. You are such a complete fuck-up. I gave you one simple instruction and you can't follow through. You know what I think it is? I think it's your damn medication. That and this stupid ex-bimbo you've been hanging around with." 

"Hey, I resent that," Trish said.

"I care, too," the assailant said, moving into the plain sight. She kept the gun aimed at Havyn while keeping a safe distance from everyone.

"Marissa?" hissed Shane. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Well, I had an accomplice, but he apparently went chicken shit on me and backed out. See, Rodney was supposed to get rid of your Franny. He even volunteered to take the fall before he met up with Trash the second time around. She changed his mind. Once he finished his part of the deal, I was going to be able to pick up the pieces and have what should have been mine all along."

"You're a sick bitch, Marissa," Havyn spat at her.

"I don't believe it's wise to talk that way to an angry woman with a gun aimed at you."

Shane pulled Havyn closer to him in a futile attempt to shield her. As he moved, Marissa moved.

The world around them started to move in slow motion. Rodney pushed Trish into Shane, causing her to scream. Marissa turned her attention away from him to watch Trish, and Rodney dove for the gun. It all ended when a loud shot rang through the empty arena.

* * *

One year later…

Vince smiled as he watched the photographer tap his foot impatiently. He paid the young man some good money to come out to his home and take a nice family portrait…he could wait a little longer. Linda slowly dropped onto the loveseat next to her husband and returned his smile. The picture was her idea. It was a way to capture all three current generations of the McMahon family. She also wanted one photo of all of her grandchildren together. 

Shane and Havyn stood behind Linda as Pete and Stephanie took their places behind Vince. 

"Where are the kids?" the photographer asked, more annoyed than ever.

"They're coming," Stephanie replied as she gently bounced the infant in her arms. "Trish is helping them."

Her comment elicited a smirk from them all. Trish had seemed the most un-motherly person in everyone's eyes, but in the past year she'd proved them all wrong. When Marissa fell that day at the arena, Rodney had been the one to receive the bullet. Although he had terrorized Shane and Havyn's lives for so long, it was still an awful turn of events. Trish moped around backstage and at Titan for nearly three months. Then Havyn noticed her starting to show and brought her to a doctor. She was pregnant, and the baby was Rodney's. If you asked anyone in the McMahon family, Trish was doing a good job with Joshua. She testified against Marissa, explaining the conspiracy to the Connecticut judge and jury. Marissa was found guilty, incarcerated, and later found dead in her cell, having hanged herself. After having been through so much, Trish was informally inducted into the McMahon Clan. 

Moments later Trish entered the room, her son in her arms and four children trailing behind her. She took her place between the two sets of parents. Dante and Juliet sat between their grandparents. Vince pulled Lance onto his lap and Linda pulled Philip onto her own. They were quite a large family, but Vince figured the more the merrier. 


End file.
